


Family

by TheWalkingDino



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Cussing Children, Daryl and Feelings, Daryl is a Softie, Feels, Gore, Hurt Rick Grimes, If a dead baby triggers you don't read this, angsty, prison era, the walking dead - Freeform, twd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-07 23:37:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8820844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalkingDino/pseuds/TheWalkingDino
Summary: Lazy title because I can't think of titles? If a dead baby is upsetting to you don't read this. This starts with two original characters who happen to be siblings. They're the kids of a major character guys, and it's pretty easy to guess which major character they are the children of. The first few chapters are going to be pretty tame but I do plan on it getting violent.Lois and Levi, sister and brother, have been surviving the best they could their whole lives, and when the apocalypse hit and their mother, their only parent was ripped to pieces in front of them, they set off on their own. It's been well over a year since the end began, and after a rough encounter with a stranger at their new residence, a cottage in the woods, Levi, only five years old, can't help but wonder if his father is out there somewhere. After Rick returns to the prison following an encounter with two siblings in the woods, Hershel sews up an injury, and Rick tells Daryl something that causes the man to faint.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of it's characters. If a dead baby upsets you, don't read this. Starts with original characters, Lois and Levi, but I will be introducing the characters we all know and love soon enough.

“Why did I never meet daddy?” The little boy squeaked.

She spun on her heel, matted hair twirling out of her face. “What?” Her knuckles were white, gripping her knife tighter.

“You met ‘im. Got pictures of you an’ ‘im. Why ain’t I ever met ‘im?” He was only five, but he was seething with resentment.

“Cus’ our father was a deadbeat, good fer nuthin’ redneck. An don’t call ‘im that. He don’t got the right to be called our dad. He left me an’ mama after you were born. Ya did meet ‘im, but ya hadn’t even opened yer eyes yet. He left mama an’ he never came back.”

“Wus a deadbeat?” The child furrowed his brows together in confusion. “He died?”

“Naw, a deadbeat’s someone who ain’t worth tha shit on yer shoes. Spent all mama’s money on smokes, never did nuthin’ for us. Worthless sack a’ shit.”

“Ya look happy with ‘im in these pictures.” He was shuffling through the tiny stack of polaroids. “He got ya yer bow an’ arrow.” His eyes trailed to the recurve that she gripped in her other hand, the tattered quiver was flung over her shoulder. The fletching on the arrows was tearing away.

“Gimme those.” She gritted her teeth and dropped her knife to snatch the pictures from his hands. She shuffled through them and sighed. “He was different back then.” She paused on a picture of her toddler self, giggling in his arms. “Ya don’t see any pictures of me past nine years old though do ya? Cus’ he went an’ fucked his life up gettin’ drugs for his brother. After he got outta jail he wasn’t the same. Couldn’t git a job, spent all mama’s money.” She slipped the pictures into her back pocket. “Stopped lovin’ me an’ mama. Let his true colors show.”

Her little brother was silent for a moment, twiddling in his fingers. He shyly looked up through the fringe of greasy bangs in front of his face, bearing a striking resemblance to his father. “If he didn’t love mama, how was I born?”

She shook her head. “The “when a man and woman love each other very much” talk is bullshit. Don’t need no love fer that, just drunk lust.”

“Wus lust?” His eyes were blue pools, wanting to soak in every bit of information he could get.

“Nuthin’ ya need ta know about.” She ruffled his greasy hair and grabbed her knife off the ground. “Better get movin’ ‘fore it’s too dark. The monsters are worse at night.” She started padding across the forest floor silently, but the little boy’s footsteps were loud as he half ran to keep up with her easy stride. “Can’t protect ya when yer bein’ so loud. Yer damn footsteps are gonna draw all the deadringers in a two mile radius.” She hissed over her shoulder.

His small hand gripped her sleeve, forcing her to a halt. “Can protect myself.” He pouted. “Ya know I can.”

“Yer five, ain’t even tall enough to drive a knife into a skull.”

“Can throw ‘em though. Ya’ve seen me.” He stole the knife from her hand and pointed to a tree about eight feet away. Then he flung the knife, blinked, and it was stuck in the bark of the tree. He pranced towards it and jumped up to reach the handle. He jerked it from the tree and waved it in front of his sister tauntingly.

“You’re a snarky lil fucker.” She rolled her eyes as he offered the knife back to her. “Keep it.” She unclipped the sheath from her jeans and tossed it to him. “Won’t always be there to protect ya.”

His eyes lit up with gratitude as he clipped the sheath onto his belt and slid the knife into place. “Thanks.”

“Don’ mention it kid.”

“We need bikes.” He grumbled, kicking at the dirt.

“What?”

“Bikes. Ya know. Could go on the roads and be fast enough to get away from the dead, but not be too loud. Wouldn’t have ta worry about runnin’ outta gas.”

“Smart kid.” She patted him on the back. “We set up camp for the night, and in the mornin’ we’ll look for bikes.”

“Bet we could hook some wagons to ‘em to carry shit in. Find supplies an’ put ‘em in tha wagons.” He yawned, struggling to keep up with his sister.

“Levi.” She turned to look at him as she walked. “Ya sleepy?”

“Mhmm.” He rubbed his eyes and gazed up at her lazily. “Can’t keep up. Short legs.” He kicked one leg out and giggled.

She kneeled and wrapped one arm around him, then stood back up, holding him against her hip. “Can’t believe I’m spendin’ all my energy carryin’ ya.”

“Thanks Lois.” He whispered as he nodded off to sleep in his sister’s arms. With the sun setting, she was almost sprinting to find somewhere safe to sleep. The trees and the leaves were a blur as she set sight on a small shack in the distance. She clutched Levi closer to her chest and picked up the pace. It was a pathetic little tool shack with plots of dry dirt beside it that she could only assume used to be a garden. She pressed her ear to the weathered wooden door and rapped her fist against it gently. She listened closely for any sign that a biter was inside. The door quaked as a body thudded against it. Just one body. She sat Levi against a tree and grabbed a knife. Her fingers shakily wrapped around the rusted metal handle on the door, and she jerked the door open. A dead woman in tattered, filthy clothes stumbled out and started clumsily walking right toward Levi. Lois grabbed the deadringer's shirt and yanked her back, driving the knife into the back of her skull. There was a tiny chunk of flesh ripped from her neck, like she’d been bitten by a baby. The woman dropped to the ground and she dragged her body to the edge of the woods, keeping an eye on her sleeping brother the entire time. She peeked into the shed and whimpered when she saw the dead baby in the corner, a knife still stuck in it’s skull, it’s mouth was covered in old blood. She suppressed her gagging and lifted the tiny body from the floor, cradling it to her chest as she walked to the woods. She never buried bodies, but she’d never found a dead baby before either. She made the trip back to the shed to grab a shovel and she dug a tiny grave at the foot of a tree. She gently placed the rotting infant corpse in the hole and yanked the knife out of its skull, then pushed the dirt back in over it. Tears threatening to break over her waterline, she rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands. She hung the shovel back on it’s hook in the tiny shed and rushed back to Levi. She lifted his sleeping form from the cold ground and rubbed his back in small gentle circles as she carried him to the shed. She leaned him against the back wall and closed the door behind them.

She sunk to her knees on the dirt floor and pulled the photos from her back pocket. She traced her shaking thumb over the image of her father’s smiling face and choked out a broken, “Fuck you.” She put the pictures back in her pocket and curled into fetal position on the floor, one arm under her head as a pillow. The moonlight shined in through cracks between the wooden planks of the shed, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to clear her mind of all the death so she could have a night of sleep. It was useless to try, after an hour she sat back up and reached into her satchel for the ziploc baggie of worms. There was dirt in the bag, and tiny holes in the top of it. There were a few worms in the gallon sized bag that wriggled through the dirt, tunneling with purpose. She peeled the bag open and reached into the dirt, grabbing a worm from the dirt. Her stomach growled and she held the worm above her face, letting the moonlight shine on it as if wiggled around in her grip. She opened her mouth and dropped the writing creature into her mouth and bit it in half. She scrunched up her nose in disgust as she chewed and swallowed. She zipped the bag up and shoved it back into her satchel. She scooted closer to Levi, and as if he sensed her warmth, he pressed into her side and reached a frail arm across her in his sleep. The worms were supposed to be for him, but he would never eat them. She shook her head and hummed “twinkle twinkle little star” quietly as she watched him sleep.

Then she found that her tired, blistered feet were carrying her out of the shed. She had an arrow already in place on the bow, she’d secured the door to the shed before she left. The moon was high in the sky, and a bat shrieked as it flew around the canopy of the woods. She stalked through the night silently, she held a flashlight between her teeth as she walked up a dirt trail.

At the end of the dirt trail she caught sight of a small cottage. She checked the perimeter before prying the door off of its hinges. There was a man with a bullet through his brain laying back casually in the bloody recliner. There was a pistol on the floor, and his hand was hovering above it. He’d shot himself. There was a chunk of flesh torn from his shoulder, his rotting body stunk like sewage. She shoved him out of the chair and dragged him outside, heaving the body over her shoulder. She tossed him behind a tall Oak and padded back to the cottage. She heard the shuffling of dead feet in a room down the hall. She heard the quiet moans. She heard the body thudding against the door. She pushed the door open and drove her knife through the skull of the old woman. She hauled the body over her shoulder and tossed it beside the old man’s.

She trekked back to the cottage again and checked every room. It was clear. She rummaged through the cabinets and found that they were stocked full of cans of soups. She cried, she laughed, then she cried some more. As she left the cottage and chained the door shut behind her, she recalled seeing a little red wagon behind the house. She grabbed the rusty handle and pulled the old wagon behind her as she hurried back to the garden shed. The wheels were squeaky and loud, and two deadringers, both were probably around ten years old, tumbled onto the dirt trail. Lois put them down and pushed them out of her path, and finally stepped into the clearing where the lonely shack stood. Their was faded light on the horizon, it was almost sunrise. She cracked the door open and saw Levi still fast asleep in the corner. She grabbed some tools off the wall and closed the door again, then set to work on fixing the squeaky wheels of the wagon.


	2. Don't Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lois and Levi make it to the cottage. Levi notices what Lois does to provide for him and make him feel safe, but he doesn't want to tell her that he knows how real life is now. Levi doesn't follow Lois' rules and trouble with a stranger ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. This chapter is longer than the first one but I'm cool with that so whatever. Lois shelters Levi, Levi is grateful but wishes she'd just be real with him. Levi doesn't follow the rules and runs into a stranger in the dead of the night. I didn't really read over this for grammar mistakes or anything oops.

Levi blinked warily at the sunlight that slipped through the cracks of the shed, its long fingers grabbing and pulling him out of sleep. He rubbed the matter from his eyes and pushed himself off of the dirt ground. He noticed that Lois wasn’t in the shed, but he wasn’t worried. Lois was always up before him.

It took all of his weight to push the door open. He leaned into it and dug his feet to the ground, shoving. With a loud creak, the door flung open and Levi tumbled forward, catching his balance before he could tumble to the ground. He steadied himself and looked for Lois immediately. She was sitting indian style on the ground, tinkering with a piece of metal in her grease covered hands. She turned her head up to look at Levi, a slight smirk tugging at the right side of her mouth. “Mornin.”

“Mornin sis.” He plopped onto the ground beside her and a cloud of dry dirt rose a few inches from the ground. The dust settled. “Whatcha workin’ on?”

“Found us a wagon.” She said dismissively, as if it were no big deal. She cooly added, “And a cottage slap full of canned food.”

“And ya didn’t bring it back?” Levi furrowed his eyebrows.

“Needed ta fix tha wagon, and why bring it all back when we’re gonna stay in that cottage?”

Realization dawned on Levi and he nodded his head in approval. “Can I help?”

“Well I’ve got the dent in this wheel filled back out, so just pass me that axle.” She didn’t even look up from the wheel, she traced her thumb over the cold, greasy metal.

“This rod thing?”

“Mhmm.” She pulled the spindle from his hand and slotted the wheel back on. Lois hopped to her feet and slid the axle through its place on the bottom of the flipped over wagon. She grabbed another wheel beside her and slid it onto the other end. Levi watched in fascination as she clamped the wheels on tightly and examined her handywork in the light, checking for flaws.

“Who taught ya how ta fix stuff like this?” Levi grabbed one of the tools and flipped it around in his hands. “I don’ even know what this is. Let alone how to use it.”

“That’s pliers.” Lois snorted. “When we get our cottage all fixed up I’ll teach ya everything I know.”

Lois brushed the dirt from her pants, the motion also effectively transferred the grease from her hands to her jeans. She flipped the wagon onto its wheels and carted it towards the shed. Levi jumped up to happily follow her. “What ya gettin’?”

“All the tools.” She entered the shed and came out with a handful of clanking metal objects. She dropped them into the little red wagon with a loud clang that made Levi jump. She went back in, came back out, and dropped in another armful of tools. Her third and final trip produced a water hose.

She flung her quiver over her shoulder and gripped her bow in her right hand. There were knives sheathed to her belt, and Levi now had his own knife gripped in his hand. “Follow me.” She grunted, and grabbed the rusty handle of the wagon in her left hand.

The trail seemed longer in the day than it did in the night. It was still early morning, but the angry Georgia sun had already forced Lois and Levi into a light sweat as they padded up the dirt path. When the sound of Levi’s tiny thudding feet ceased, her heart rate doubled in fear as she dropped the handle of the wagon and drew her bow. She relaxed when she saw him, sitting on a stump, guzzling water from his bottle.

“Ya heard me stop?” He sputtered as he closed the lid.

“Ya stomp like a damn elephant, how could I not hear ya stop?” Lois laughed, running a hand through her tangled hair for about an inch before her fingers caught in the awful knots. She shook her head and leaned back against a tree, letting her nerves calm. “Ya tired?”

“Can keep walkin’, are we close yet?” His eyes were hopeful as he stared over her shoulder, looking for a sign of the cottage.

“Not too far.” She twisted the lid from her bottle and raised it to her lips, relishing the feeling of tepid water washing down her throat. She screwed the cap back in place and shoved herself from the tree. “Let’s get going bub.”

She grasped his small sweaty hand in hers and pulled him to his wobbling legs. He leaned in to her for support. She walked back to the wagon and looked back to see him struggling to keep up. He could barely lift his feet, like he was trudging through quicksand. Lois was back at his side in a flash, lifting his feet from the ground and propping him in one arm against her side. “Put me down. Can walk.” He fussed, trying to escape her delicate grip, but he was too weak for that.

She sat him down on top of the waterhose in the wagon. “Can ya sit up straight? Don’t need ya fallin’ out the wagon.”

“Can walk.” He pouted, but he didn’t bother moving. “Yer gonna spend all yer ener-” he paused. “Enengery.” He rolled the word around again. “En-”

“Energy.” Lois finally corrected. “I got plenty a’ it. Don’t worry ‘bout me Levi.” She patted him on the back softly and grabbed the wagon handle, resuming their trek to the cottage.

She exerted all of her energy on dragging that wagon behind her, with the tools and her brother sitting comfortably on the cart, but she didn’t mind. Her shirt clung to her back and her palms were slipping on the handle, but she pressed on, and soon the cottage came into view. With new motivation, she broke into a jog, tugging the wagon quickly behind her. She unchained the door and stole Levi from the wagon, carrying him into the cottage. It smelt of mold and death but they were laughing. Levi broke free from her arms and threw himself onto the small couch against the wall. He relaxed into the old foam cushions and stared at the ceiling with a smile in his eyes. “We can stay here.” He looked to the door to see Lois pulling the wagon inside. “We can live.”

“Yeah.” Lois beamed as she dragged the red wagon into the kitchen. “Make it a home.” Levi could hear Lois unloading the tools and opening cabinets. He could hear her relaxed laughing, and how for the first time in months she didn’t have a stressed knot in her voice. He rolled over to look at the grimy curtains hanging in front of the small window. He could see blood and brain matter, dirt, and what might have been vomit on what used to be thick, pristine, cream colored cloth. He knew Lois had taken bodies out of this place, he’d seen them in the woods. He knew that she was trying her damndest to shelter him and give him a real childhood, but something in him wish she’d cut the act and let him see death. Something in him knew he needed reality, and not the fantasy his big sister was creating for him. With the thoughts now troubling his mind, he shifted uncomfortably to look away from the window and he could hear Lois humming a lullaby. He closed his eyes and gripped the dusty, decorative pillow beneath him a little bit tighter, then he drifted to sleep.

When he woke up, the house was silent, other than a faint ticking. He jumped from the couch and looked for the source of the sound, seeing a clock, that he knew hadn’t been in the cottage before, hanging on the wall. He knew Lois must have fixed it, even if she didn’t know what the real time was. He squinted his eyes and tried to figure out the time, but he had only ever been in daycare before all this. The most he knew about numbers was how to count to 100. He saw a little arrow pointing to the five, a big arrow pointing to eleven, and a thin arrow that kept going in circles, ticking. “Five and Eleven o’ clock.” He made a small frustrated fist. “Five… Eleven?” He gave up and slid off of the couch, feeling much better than he had on the trail. He noticed that the filthy cream curtains were gone, now replaced with clean, navy curtains that still had lines in them from having been folded up somewhere for a long time. He pushed the curtains back slowly, one hand twitching on his knife. When nothing jumped at him, he relaxed and peered outside. The sun was setting, Lois was chopping wood. He shook his head in disbelief and turned around to look at the coffee table behind him. The blood had been wiped off of it, their was a plate of beans and peaches sitting in the middle. He licked his finger to grip the paper sitting beside the plate, and he focused on reading it. “E.” He recalled the letter quickly. “A.” He struggled for a moment with the next letter. “T.” He shook his head and furrowed his brows. “Eat.” He finally concluded. Then he moved to the next word, quickly realizing it was his name. “Levi.”

He grinned and glanced over his shoulder, out the window. She was still there, slinging an axe into wood. Levi spun around with the plate in his hand and sat it on the window seal. He watched Lois as he ate. If she could be protective of him, the least he could do was be protective of her. His eyes scanned the woods for the monsters, but none came, he just ate beans and peaches as he watched his sister labor over firewood so they could boil water.

She finally slammed the axe down again, wedging it in a block before standing up straight. She placed one hand against her back and wiped sweat from her brow with the other, then she looked over to the cottage and Levi waved excitedly. She wasn’t very close, but he could feel the light in her eyes. She loaded blocks of wood into the wagon and carted it closer to the cottage before unloading it. The door thudded shut behind her and she flung her arms around Levi, lifting him from the ground and twirling him before placing him back on his feet. “Plumbing here obviously doesn’t work, but I found an outhouse. No more squatting behind trees.”

“Ya smell like shit.” Levi scrunched up his nose.

“‘Cus I cleaned the outhouse.” Lois laughed quietly. “Washed up, changed clothes, but the smell of old shit lingers.”

Levi could see the dark circles under her eyes, the dry, damaged skin on her hands, the sunburn on her arms, but he never said anything. He couldn’t let her know that he knew. He knew that she almost never slept. He knew what she did at the expense of her health to make sure he was safe. He trailed her footsteps as she made her way down the hall. “Rooms?” He asked hopefully.

Lois pushed the first door open and made an overly dramatic gesture to the inside. “Your room.” She bowed. Levi hopped inside and laughed happily as he sprinted to the bed. He jumped and tumbled onto the clean, but definitely old, blankets. There were firetrucks and police cars on the top blankets, and two Superman pillows fluffed and neatly placed at the top of the bed. Unrealistic, but better than anything he’d ever had, even before the apocalypse.

Levi turned to look at her and he saw that flash of tiredness before she put on her happy smile. “Thanks sis.” He looked around the room and saw toy trains and legos. He knew the kid that used to stay here was dead, and it didn’t bother him that he’d be sleeping in a dead boy’s bed. She padded into the room and reached under the bed, grabbing a small book. It was a book of numbers and letters. The letter A printed bold and red on the first page. The letter B on the next.

“Thought ya could use this as a refresher.” She kissed his forehead gently. “If you need me I’m across the hall.” Lois quietly stepped out of the room, leaving the door open.

 

Night came, and even though Levi had already taken a long nap earlier that day, he still thought he should try to sleep. Lois tucked him in under the soft blankets and sung _twinkle twinkle little star._ He used to love the song, but he didn’t care for it anymore. Lullabies weren’t anything anymore. He would never tell Lois that. “If you have to use the bathroom, wake me up. I’ll walk you out there.” She mumbled, kissed his forehead, and left his room.

He heard her bed squeak across the hall, and to his relief he heard her snoring. She was actually sleeping. He was thankful for it, he’d been wishing for her to get a good night’s sleep for a long time. He rolled around under the blankets and restlessly kicked them off. He wasn’t used to the weight of blankets anymore. He was used to sleeping on the dirt, or in a pile of leaves, not in a bed. He finally slid out of the bed, boots already on. Keeping shoes on was protocol. If they needed to leave suddenly, they didn’t have time to put on shoes and lace them. He tiptoed out his door and peeked into Lois’ room. He was going to go to the outhouse, but he didn’t feel like waking Lois up. He didn’t see much danger in it anyway, it was just at the edge of the woods. He was careful not to let his boots clunk on the floor as he walked. He didn’t want to disturb Lois from her peaceful sleep.

The door creaked as he pushed it open, and he winced. He stopped, listened, and when he hear his sister still snoring, he slipped outside, quietly closing the door behind him. He was gripping his knife in his hand. His eyes darted around, taking in the night scene under the pale moonlight. With no deadringers in sight, he darted for the outhouse. He flung the door open and closed it behind him, relaxing when he knew he’d made it out of the house safely.

After he did his business, he stepped out cautiously. He observed the area quickly, looking and listening. As he took the first step, he heard a twig snap in the woods and he froze.

“Shit.” A stranger’s voice grunted quietly.

His eyes went wide with fear and he backed into the outhouse, closing the door behind him. He stood on his toes and peeked through the crescent moon in the wood. A man’s shadowy figure passed in front of him and Levi gripped his knife, his knuckles white. He glared as the man made his way to the cottage, holding a machete. He didn’t know what came over him, but seeing that man going towards the very place his sister was sleeping triggered something. He pushed the door open and threw his knife. His heart stopped as he saw the knife just barely miss the man, passing between his arm and his side. It jammed into the side of the cottage with a sickening _thwonk_  and Levi’s stomach lurched as the man spun around and he pulled a pistol.

“What the fuck?” The man lowered his gun a little, then shook his head and raised it back up. He sprinted toward Levi and he froze. His eyes were wide and he was sobbing, but he couldn’t unglue his feet from the ground. The man kneeled in front of him and the young boy turned as he felt his stomach flip again. He puked up digested beans and peaches in front of the stranger, collapsing into his own vomit, shaking.

“Don’t kill me.” He whimpered. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Hey.” He felt the man’s hand on his back. “I’m not going to kill you.”

He looked up from the ground to see the man had dropped his weapons. “Hey. It’s okay buddy.” He patted his back softly.

“I- I-” Levi pushed himself out of his vomit.

“Hey, it’s-” The man stopped talking and let out a pained yelp. Levi looked down to see the arrow protruding from his abdomen, then he looked back up to see Lois, lowering her bow and charging towards them.

“Get away from him!” She screamed as she tackled the startled man to the ground and her fist collided with his nose. Levi heard a loud crack. “I’m gonna kill you!” She screamed again. She was throwing punches and the man beneath her still had an arrow protruding from his abdomen so he shoved upward and the arrow stabbed into Lois’ side. She shoved herself away with a whimper and saw the blood that now oozed from her waist. “You bastard!” She threw another punch and then she was pinned to the ground by the man and Levi was wailing as he watched.

The man had his forearm on her neck and he had her pinned. She snarled at him and writhed under his weight, but he wasn’t trying to kill her. “Calm the fuck down.” He barked. “I wasn’t going to hurt him.”

“Yeah ya were!” She spit. “All the other living want to do is kill and steal.” She almost fell limp as the fight left her body, but she couldn’t give up in front of Levi.

“That’s not true.” The man sighed. “I’m not going to hurt you or your people.”

He must have assumed they had more people.

“I’m going to let go now. I want you to get this arrow out of me. Please.” His eyes were teary and he jumped back, freeing Lois. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.

Levi ran back to the cottage, crying. He jerked his knife from the wood of the building and gripped the handle angrily. He ran back at the man, knife raised in the air.

“Levi no.” Lois grabbed his small arm and stopped him from stabbing the man in the side. She lowered his arm slowly. “We’re gonna help him. And he’s gonna get the fuck outta here and never tell anyone about us.”

“You don’t know that!” Levi wailed, trying to jerk his arm free. Lois carefully took the knife from his hand. “Lois!” He slapped at her arm. “Give it back.”

“We’re going to help him.” She gritted her teeth and glared at him sternly.

“But-”

“We’re gonna help him.” She grabbed Levi’s arm and looked back at the man. “Follow me.”

The three stomped back to the house, the stranger clutching at his abdomen where blood oozed around the arrowhead. “Levi clear the kitchen table.” Lois ordered.

Levi angrily shoved everything off of the table as Lois grabbed alcohol from the top cabinet. “Get on the table.” She glared at the stranger angrily. The room was dark, but they were adjusted to dark. “Levi light some candles.”

When Lois came back into the kitchen Levi had lit all the candles he could find and placed them near the table. His sister was carrying a pair of pliers, bandaging, and a knife. “Get out.”

His eyes were begging her that he could stay, but her icy stare wasn’t worth arguing with. He left the kitchen, but then he peeked back in.

She cut the man’s shirt off and threw it into the trashcan. Then she opened the alcohol and poured it over the arrow. The man grimaced, and let out a quiet whimper. She placed the pliers on the arrowhead and clamped them against it. She wrapped her other hand around the stick part of the arrow and held it firmly in place. She jerked the hand with the pliers back and the arrowhead popped off of the arrow. Levi watched in amazement at the blood that gushed from the man’s wound. He looked him over, noting the curls in his hair, the piercing blue eyes, and the scruffy beard. The man’s knuckles were white, there were tears leaking from his eyes. Lois walk around him and gripped the back end of the arrow. “Takin’ it out now.” She grunted, and then she yanked the arrow out with a quick tug.

The man shouted swears at the top of his lungs and then fell back onto the table, limp. Lois held his wrist, pressing her thumb against his vein, checking to see that his pulse was still there. She poured more alcohol over the wound and dried it off. Then she started wrapping the bandages around the man’s waist tightly. She taped the bandages together and whipped her head around to look at Levi. “I told you.” She pointed an angry finger. “Not to go out there alone.”

“I’m sorry.” Levi stepped back, holding his sobs in. “But what if I hadn’t went out there.”

The man on the table groaned and propped himself back up. Levi and Lois both bent their attention on him. Lois checked his pulse and his temperature. She gave him a can of beans and a water bottle. “Get the fuck outta here.”

“Wait.” He cleared his throat. “I have a group. You could come live with us. It’d be safe.” He gulped down some water. “My name’s-”

“Don’t care what yer name is. Don’t care ‘bout yer group. Just promise you’ll forget ya ever saw us.”

“Rick Grimes.” He finished. He shoved himself off the table and walked out the door. He looked over his shoulder. “You’re safe Lois… Levi.” Then he slinked off into the night. He didn’t promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the next chapter is going to be Rick back at the prison. Will he tell anyone what happened in the woods? Who could he trust with such information? 
> 
> He'll tell Daryl and you all already know that oops


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick returns to the prison, injured, and with a secret. He trusts Daryl with the secret, but how will Daryl react?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of it's characters   
> I'm so so sorry that I haven't updated sooner, but chapter three is finally here! Also, I totally didn't proof read this so ignore any terrible spelling/grammar mistakes.

Rick's side was burning, his ears were ringing, there was blood leaking from his broken nose, and the image of a young boy crying in his own vomit was seared into his mind. He was still gripping the can of beans and the water bottle in his hands, holding so tightly that he believed his knuckles would break through the dry skin that stretched over them. The sound of his footsteps against the paved road echoed in his head, and he could hear that knife hitting the cottage, he’d been so close to dying. He can hear the knife, hitting the cottage again and again, repeating in his mind like a broken record.  _ Thwonk. Thwonk. Thwonk.  _ And then he can feel the arrow slicing through his skin and he can see it protruding from his side and he winces. He drops the water bottle and his fingers trace over the bandaged wound, he can feel the blood already soaking through. How would he explain coming back home shirtless with bloody bandages and not tell someone about those children? 

He bent over and grabbed the dropped water bottle, his shaking fingers twisted the cap off and he took a long swig, some of the water ran from the corners of his mouth and down his chin, dripping down his neck and down his chest, he shivered. He screwed the cap back on and looked at the can in his hands, Bush’s baked beans. He chuckled, tracing his thumb over the date. He didn’t know what the date was anymore, but surely it hadn’t been that long since the world went to shit. 

Seeing his car pulled off onto the side of the road, with limbs carefully placed over it to keep it hidden, he had a newfound glimmer of hope. He heard the keys jingling in his pocket as he pushed himself into a sprint, ignoring the pain in his side.When he reached the car he pulled the limbs from it and quickly tossed them into the woods, he unlocked the door with shaking hands and collapsed inside, barely getting the door closed behind him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, relaxing for a just a moment, before realizing that if he didn’t get back soon, he’d bleed out. He started the car and maneuvered his way back onto the road, then he was speeding down the open road. 

He pulled up to the prison gates and they were pulled open the moment he was recognized. He drove past Glenn and Maggie, who were keeping the gate that night, without giving them even a glance. The moment he had the car stopped he was already out, he left the door open and ran into the prison. “Hershel!” He shouted, not caring that he was waking everyone up. “Hershel!” 

The white haired man sleepily emerged from his cell and saw Rick as he collapsed onto the prison floor, sweating and bleeding. Glenn and Maggie came running down the corridor after him, and the three lifted the ex-sheriff from the ground, bringing him into Hershel’s cell. Hershel reached under his bed and pulled out all the medical gear he had. Glenn propped up Rick’s head as Hershel tipped a water bottle to his mouth. He dropped a couple of pain pills into the man’s mouth and helped him get them down. “Maggie, find Carl.” Hershel didn’t look up, but he knew she left the cell the moment he told her to. 

Rick was in and out, on the verge of fainting. He could hear people in the cell, mumbling things to each other, he could feel Hershel prodding at his wound with something cold and metallic. It stung, and his body was twitching from the pain, but he was too weak to move. He tried blocking everything out, but when he did that he could hear those kids. 

 

_ “Don’t kill me. Please Don’t kill me.” The pleading voice of a young boy.  _

 

_ “Get away from him!” A girl’s voice, enraged, but there’s a hint of terror. “I’m gonna kill you! You bastard!” Then, her voice sounded defeated, “All the other living want to do is kill and steal.”  _

Then he could hear his own voice, _ “You’re safe Lois… Levi.”  _

 

When he opened his eyes, he saw Hershel cleaning off a bloody suture needle, and he felt a calloused hand on his forehead. He tipped his head up to see Daryl’s worried face. “Hey.” He coughed. 

“Bastard.” Daryl wiped the sweat from Rick’s brow. “Ya had to get yerself a wound to match mine didn’t ya?” 

Rick shook his head and let out a quiet laugh, “Well we can’t get matching tattoos.” His hand fell to Daryl’s side and he traced his thumb over his shirt, where the fabric was covering a scar he’d gotten after being stabbed by one of his own arrows, it was in the same place as Rick’s new wound. 

“Who did this?” Daryl placed a gentled hand on Rick’s side. 

“No one.” Rick mumbled. “Fell on something.” 

“So who cleaned it and bandaged it?” Hershel interrupted. “Obviously not someone experienced.” 

“I did.” Rick cleared his throat. “I did.” 

Hershel raised his eyebrows and shook his head, “Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I know you’re lying to me.” He patted Rick’s leg, “As long as you’re not putting any of us at risk, I’m not gonna ask.” 

Rick opened his mouth to respond but Hershel continued, “I’ll stay in a different cell tonight, I don’t think you’re good to walk yet. Carl was here earlier, but he got tired and headed back to bed. Everyone knows you’re going to be okay.” 

Rick sat up, “I can make it back to my cell.” He flung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Not gonna force you to give up your cell for the night.” 

Hershel shook his head. “Stubborn as a mule.” 

Daryl chuckled in agreement. He wrapped his arm around Rick’s waist and helped him off of the bed. Rick leaned against him as they slowly walked down the corridor to Rick’s cell. Hershel trailed behind them, in case something went wrong with Rick’s stitches, but the trip to his cell was thankfully uneventful. Hershel lingered in the cell door for a moment, before Daryl made a shooing motion with his hand, then the man nodded his head and left.

“The fuck happened out here?” Daryl snapped.

“Told you, I fell on something.”

The archer sat down on the edge of the bed. “Stop fuckin’ lyin’ ta me Grimes. Ya shouldn’t a’ been out there alone in tha first place, least ya can do is tell me tha truth.” Daryl grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. “Ya know how scared ya had me?”

“I’m sorry…” Rick leaned his head against Daryl’s thigh. “I’m not lying.” 

“I didn’t hear ya yell for Hershel when ya came in, Carl came an’ got me. He was cryin’ an’ at first he didn’t say anythin’, so I didn’t know what was goin’ on and he jus’ fell into my arms and he said,  _ Somethin’ happened ta dad.  _ I was already runnin’ out of my cell ‘fore I thought ta ask where ya were. Carl came runnin’ after me, told me ya’s in Hershel’s cell.” Daryl looked at Rick with watery eyes. “Thought I lost ya.” He choked out. “So ya can at least.” He paused to rub his eyes. “Ya can at least tell me what the fuck happened out there.” 

Rick tapped his fingers against Daryl’s knee and kissed his thigh. “I’m sorry.” He muttered again. “I saw a fucking deer, thought I’d try and track it. Kill a deer so I could impress you.” He sighed. “Lost it pretty quick, but then I saw this cabin, so I thought I’d check it out.” He gripped Daryl’s hand tighter. “I’m walking towards it and then I just hear this sound and I look in front of me, and there’s a knife jammed into the wood part of the cabin, It’s still shaking from making contact with the wood. I spun around and pulled my gun.” He shook his head, “And there was this boy.” He sobbed. “Couldn’t of been more than five years old. Put down my gun and walked to him and he started puking, he was begging me not to kill him, fell into his own vomit and kept crying. Then, there was this sudden pain, and I looked down, and there was an arrow sticking out of me. And I heard a girl behind me, screaming, threatening to kill me, telling me to get away from him. She got me on the ground, broke my nose.” Rick was suddenly aware of how badly his nose hurt, and he brought his hand up to it, feeling for blood. 

“Hershel fixed it.” Daryl pushed his hand away from his face. 

“Then she kept punching me, and I shifted my weight up to stab the arrow into her stomach.” He winced. “Oh my god. That could’ve killed her.” He brought his hands to his face and broke down into tears. “She was Carl’s age. I could’ve killed her.” 

“Hey. It’s ok. It’s ok.” Daryl scooted back onto the bed and raised Rick up, then laid him back down, his head resting on his lap. He ran his fingers through his sweaty curls soothingly. 

“I got the advantage, and I told them I wasn’t going to hurt them. Then she got the arrow out of me, bandaged me, and told me to leave. She told me to promise I wouldn’t tell anyone about them.” Rick sat up, propping himself on his arms. “I’m a mess.” He sobbed, his body was shaking.

“My mess.” Daryl laid down, knocking one of Rick’s arms from beneath him, making him fall back again, lying down beside him. “Won’t let anyone hurt ya ever ‘gain.” 

“I know baby.” Rick pressed a gentle kiss to the hunter’s forehead. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and smiled, but then his smile fell and his eyes teared up again. “The little boy…” He shook his head. “Looked like you.”

“How so?” Daryl huffed. 

“Greasy ass hair.” Rick ruffled Daryl’s hair.

“I imagine a lot of people have greasy ass hair nowadays. Not everybody has showers like we do.” Daryl wrapped his arms around Rick.

“Girl looked like you too, crazy cheekbones man. And she had a bow and arrow.” Rick leaned into Daryl’s warm embrace. 

“Crazy cheekbones?”

“Your cheekbones are perfect.” Rick ran one hand over the side of the archer’s face. “Could kill a fucking walker with cheekbones like that.” 

“What kind of bow?” Daryl asked quietly. 

“I dunno, I’m not the expert. You are.” Rick hummed. 

“Like mine?” Daryl volunteered. 

Rick shook his head. “It wasn’t all fancy fancy. It was like… I dunno, it was simple, you know?” 

“Shaped like this?” Daryl traced one curve with a calloused finger down the side of Rick’s face.

“Nuh uh.” Rick shook his head. 

“Like this?” Daryl traced more of a squiggly curve against Rick’s jaw. 

“Mhmm.” Rick tilted his head into the hunter’s touch.

“That’s called a recurve.” Daryl informed him, pressing a soft kiss to the ex-cop’s temple. “Did you catch any names?” 

“Yeah.” Rick nuzzled his head against Daryl’s chest happily. 

Daryl huffed, “Ya gonna tell me?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” Rick grumbled. 

Daryl wriggled out of the bed and stood up. “I’m leaving for a shift on the guard tower.” He paused. “Gonna tell me anything about them?”

“If it’ll keep ya in here, I will.” Rick grabbed his blankets and pulled them up over him, relaxing into the warmth. “They were brother and sister. Didn’t tell me, but I could tell.” He held out one hand to Daryl, motioning him to come back to the bed. “They were alone as far as I could tell.”

“Names?” Daryl questioned. 

“Uh..” Rick thought for a second. 

 

_ He heard his voice in his head again. “You’re safe Lois… Levi.”  _

 

“Lois and Levi.” Rick practically sang. 

In one moment Daryl was standing, in the next moment he was passed out on the floor. For the second time that night, an injured Rick was running down the corridor yelling for Hershel.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the incident, Lois and Levi come to an understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Walking Dead or any of it's characters. This chapter comes back to Lois and Levi, and how the incident with Rick affects them. Toward the end, during Levi's nightmare, it gets pretty gory so you've been warned. As always, I did not proofread this and there are likely to be spelling and grammar mistakes, and I hope that the mistakes can be overlooked. Tell me what you guys think, and enjoy!

Lois glared at Levi sternly, an angry fire burning behind her eyes that somehow made the room feel icey and dead rather than ignited with flaming rage. “Dammit.” She said. “Dammit Levi.” 

“I’m sorry sis.” He was staring at her angry eyes, waiting for the flames inside to burn her void pupils and dark irises so they could escape and join the hellish world they belonged in. “I didn’t wake ya up cus I knew ya needed sleep.” Any other kid wouldn’t have locked his eyes to hers, any other kid would have feared that demon glare and looked away, but he knew he had to speak now. “I know ya wanted me ta wake ya up. Know ya wanna protect me. I see everythin’ ya do for me. I see how ya work yerself ta death, an’ how you stay up some nights and jus’ watch me cus’ ya think I’m gonna turn ta dust if ya blink, but I ain’t gonna let ya hurt yerself like this no more.” He stepped closer, holding her stare, watching it waver from devil to human, some deeper emotions flickering beneath the surface of her muddy, angry eyes. “I love ya sis. I thought that I could jus’ let ya sleep, cus’ tha’s the least I can do is not bother ya when yer restin’. An’ I’m sorry that this happened, that tha one time I disobeyed ya somethin’ bad happened, but it’s one time somethin’ bad happened, an’ I’m gonna go ‘head an’ tell ya I ain’t fuckin’ lettin’ ya treat me like glass no more. Want ya ta teach me how ta defend myself, want ya ta teach me ta shoot, want ya ta let me enter reality ‘stead of watchin’ it through a window ya spent all yer damn energy cleanin’ blood and brain from. Want ya ta do what ya need to ‘stead of what ya want cus’ what ya want ain’t what I need. Ain’t what we need.” 

He placed one small hand on her shaking arm and watched as a dam behind her eyes shattered, letting cool water flow over the fire, turning the flames to dying embers, and the embers to cool ash. Her muddy eyes that had been hot with rage became cool and relaxed, and the water that had extinguished the fire now leaked from her tear ducts. She wept. She fell to her knees, crippled under her baby brother’s small caring hand and wise words. He fell to the floor with her and he let her cry into her hands, he let realization quake through her body in tremors of sobbing, and he let her fall apart in the floor of a dead couple’s cottage, until he felt like new understanding had fully swept through her body, and he knew when it had. She looked up at him and her eyes crinkled up at the outer edges, and her mouth cracked into an honest smile. Her long, boney fingers combed through his grimey hair and she let out one last trembling sigh, then she spoke one simple word that finally let Levi’s world merge into the real world. “Okay.” 

“How bad ya hurt?” He inquired as he stood, noting the blood that tinted her shirt around her stomach. “How can I help ya?” 

Lois rose to her feet and lifted her shirt to show the wound, and it deepened their understanding, that Levi should know everything about this hellish world because that’s what he needs. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it was something that would need stitches. The blood was still oozing from it, but not as alarmingly fast as it had been before. “Check the extra room fer fishin’ line an’ hooks. Take yer knife in case ya need it.” 

She kicked her foot slightly and he saw the knife skid across the floor. He flexed his fingers over the handle, then gripped it tightly. “Thank ya Lois. Fer understandin’ an’ fer protectin’ me ever since mama died.” He dipped his head down in a nod, not sure himself exactly what it meant, but Lois gave the same small dip of the head right back at him, and he sprinted down the hall. 

Lois gripped the table with both hands as she sat back on the table. She reached for the alcohol and poured some directly onto the wound, her face contorting into an awful grimace at the sting. She fumbled for a small piece of bandaging and dabbed at the blood on her stomach, whisking it away from her open wound. Then she poured more alcohol onto it and let out a pained whine, like a kicked puppy, as the disinfectant washed over her cut. 

Levi didn’t hesitate to fling the door open. He took one short moment to take in his new surroundings, a bedroom with an unmade bed that had collected dust on the blankets, cardboard boxes scattered across the wood floor, dirty clothes strewn throughout the room, and a closet. He went straight for the closet, like it had a gravitational pull, and he yanked the door open. Inside, there were suits and dress shirts and pants hanging from a rack, organized by color. 

The closet smelt musty, and there was the remains of a long dead rat in the corner. A cricket hopped away from the rotting carcass and as it passed Levi’s foot, he reached down and pinched it between his fingers. He held it in front of his face and watched it’s legs stop kicking as he squeezed the small creature between his thumb and his index finger, it’s exoskeleton crunched under the pressure and it fell still. Swallowing his disgust, he tossed the insect into his mouth and paid attention to the way it sounded as his teeth grinded it apart, like old leaves and glass crumbling under feet, then he let the mutilated bits of bug slide down his throat and he sighed. This was reality.

There were more boxes stacked on the floor of the closet, and on top of the rack there was a fishing poll. He reached for it, but when he grabbed it he saw that there was no line or hook attached. With a defeated huff, he tossed it to the bed, and then he dropped to the floor and grabbed a box that had been taped shut like the rest of them. He stabbed his knife into the box and sliced the tape, letting the cardboard flaps spring open. He looked into the box to see nothing but old DVDs, so he moved onto the next box. Four boxes in, he was met with a sight that made him think for a moment that maybe God was up there after all. Spools of fishing line and packs of hooks, all still clean in their plastic casings, never opened, rested in the small brown box and he let out a joyful whoop, pumping his fist into the air once. He snatched the box from the floor as he stood and bounced pridefully back to the kitchen. 

Lois looked up with a smile when Levi came back with a box in his arms. He was smiling too, and it was contagious. He sat the box down beside her and he grabbed a spool of fishing line, cutting the plastic case open with his knife. He threw the trash into the trashcan and watched as Lois unwinded a small section of line from the spool. She held it out to him and he cut the line with his knife, then he grabbed a pack of hooks from the box and cut the package open. “Which hook’ll do tha best?” 

Lois silently grabbed the smallest hook from the pack, it was thin, and Levi would barely see it in her hand. She held it to the flame of the candle, careful not to burn her fingers. She brought the hook back out from the fire and waved it in the air, letting it cool, then she tied one end of the fishing line to the eye of the hook. She pressed the hook to her skin and looked from her wound to Levi with teary eyes, “Ya don’ have ya wa-”

“I’m watching.” He interrupted. “Real world, remember?” 

“Yeah.” Lois managed a small grin before looking back to the cut in her side. She angled the tip of the needle vertically and pressed it into her skin, a pained whine escaping her lips. She turned her wrist to let the curve of the needle pass through her skin, then she found the tip in the opening of her wound and pulled on it with shaking fingers. The fishing line slid through her skin and she bit her lip until it bled, trying not to cry. She stuck the needle into the other side of the cut and curved her wrist again. She reached for the tip of the needle and pulled it away from her body, and the fishing line slid through again. She untied the line from the needle and sat the bloodied metal down on her leg. She took a deep breath, willing her fingers to stop trembling, and she grabbed the two ends of line on either side of her cut and crossed them over, tugging until her skin came together. She tied the line in a knot, then another and another. She reached for the spool again and  held out another small section for Levi to cut. As the blade of his knife pressed to the line it snapped free and she grabbed the bloody needle again, pressing one end of line through the eye and tying it. She pushed the needle into her skin, just below where the first stitch was, and she did the same procedure all over again. After that, she did one last stitch. 

Lois wiped the needle against her shirt and sat it on the table, then she grabbed the bandaging and wrapped the white material around her waist once before reaching for Levi’s knife and cutting it. She grabbed the needle, with more line, and sewed the bandage together so it wouldn’t fall away from her body. “Ya alright?” She asked quietly, looking at Levi’s slightly upset expression. 

“I’m fine.” Levi said quietly, “Jus’ don’ like seein’ ya hurtin’. Are ya okay?” 

“I’m good.” She pulled her shirt back down over the bandage and noticed the vomit that clung to Levi’s dinosaur t-shirt. The shit had a cartoon Brontosaurus looking back at the bird that perched on its tail. “Let’s get ya cleaned up.” She slid off of the table and held out her hands. “Arms up.”

Levi held his arms in the air and Lois grabbed his sleeves and tugged the shirt up over his head. She threw it into the floor and sighed. Levi’s hair had vomit in it, and there was some dried to the side of of his face, and on his arms. She shook her head, “Ya wanna come with me ta fill up the basin at tha creek?” She looked over her shoulder at the small metal tub that sat in the corner of the kitchen. 

“Yeah.” Levi nodded, “I wanna help.” 

“Course ya do.” Lois grinned. “Yer more grown up than I give ya credit fer.”

“Guess that’s what tha end does ta a kid.” Levi chortled. “Let’s go get some water.” 

Lois lifted the basin from the floor, and Levi grabbed the red wagon. She sat the tub down on the wagon and Levi pulled on the handle, rolling the wagon out of the cottage, trailing closely behind Lois with his knife sheathed at his side.

It wasn’t far to the creek, and when they got near, Levi could hear the sound of cool water flowing over rocks and he became anxious to get to the water source. “Ya see it yet?” 

“Almost there bud.” Lois said calmly. “Almost there.” 

Sure enough, as they passed between a couple of tall Oaks, Levi could see the pale reflection of the moon quivering in a part of the creek that was deeper and wider, where the water didn’t rush nearly as fast. He knew that this place used to be a swimming hole, he remembered learning to swim in a creek with his mother just months before the world ended and it made his heart ache. 

Lois kicked off her socks and shoes, then she rolled up her pants legs and grabbed the basin. Levi kicked off his own shoes and socks, and he rolled up his pants legs too. He followed her down the creek a ways, knowing that water should be collected where it was cleaner, and water in a swimming hole would not be as clean as water that flowed over smoothed rocks.

The pair waded into the calf deep water, and Levi grabbed one side of the basin. They held the basin at an angle towards the rocks and the water rushed into the metal bucket. Levi dug his feet into the mud and silt under the water, bending his knees and leaning forward against the current. The basin was getting heavier by the second and he could see Lois’ arm muscles flexing to hold the weight, and he remembered how before the world ended the was spindly and skeleton like, no muscle or fat on her body. He realize that now she ate more than she had before, before the dead were walking, before their mother died. She hardly ever ate back then, because their mother struggled for food and she always put her food on Levi’s plate so he could be healthy, but now their was no need for money to get food, and stealing was perfectly acceptable. Now Lois was a better hunter than Levi could ever hope to be, and he saw that the end of the world might have brought out her worst, but it also brought out her best. It brought her out of her depression because now she had something in this world to do that mattered more than anything. 

“Okay.” Lois huffed. “‘S gonna be heavy but we gotta get it onto the wagon.” She started straightening the basin, paralleling the bottom with the ground, and Levi’s arms were burning from the weight, but he kept holding on. 

They stepped carefully back to the bank, and once they weren’t at risk of slipping in mud, they picked up the pace and got back to the wagon. Lois squatted down slowly, and Levi copied, bringing the basin down timidly, trying not to spill a drop of cool water. A quiet thud let them know the basin was resting in the wagon, so they let go. “Ya good?” Levi asked, looking up to Lois, who was rubbing her back with her hand. He was putting his socks and shoes back on, and his sister was too. 

“‘M good.” She smiled. She gripped the handle of the wagon and started tugging. “Ya know tha way back bud?” 

“Yep.” Levi beamed. “‘M good with landmarks.” He hopped in front of her and looked over his shoulder, “Follow me.” 

They passed between the two tall oaks and trailed through the woods quietly. When the cottage came into sight, pride swelled inside Levi’s chest, he knew he could lead her back. He stepped back to Lois’ side and grabbed the other side of the handle, helping her pull the wagon to the porch. They lifted the basin and quickly brought it up to the porch step and into the house. It hit the ground with a clank, and a little water sloshed over the edges.

As Lois went into the kitchen to find a washcloth and soap, Levi went to his room and grabbed a clean shirt, another dinosaur t-shirt, this one featuring a t-rex. 

He pranced back to the living room, where Lois was wetting a washcloth in the basin and rubbing a bar of soap onto the cloth. He sat down beside her and she pressed the soapy wet cloth to his face, gently wiping at the dried vomit. She moved the cloth to his arms, and wiped the puke from his bony limbs.

With the vomit wiped from his body, Levi pulled his clean shirt on over his head. He looked at the dried blood on Lois’ shirt and sighed. “Ya didn’t stitch that man up and he was hurt way worse.” 

“Was pissed.” She huffed. “Hope he made it back to his people.” 

“Tomorrow we should go out ta tha road an’ look around fer his body. He’s probably dead.” Levi croaked. “If we see him shufflin’ ‘round dead, I wanna do it. I wanna put ‘im down. Need ta prove that I can kill.” 

“I would bet that he made it back to his people, bud. But in the morning, we’ll head out an’ look for ‘im. Maybe find some supplies too.” Lois patted his shoulder as she stood. “Now try and get some sleep lil Dixon.” Her footsteps thudded down the hallway and she disappeared into her room. 

“Okay.” Levi mumbled to no one. He ran his fingers against the wall as he walked to his room, then he flopped onto his bed with an exhausted sigh, the mattress and the blankets lulling him into a deep sleep. 

That night, he dreamt of the man, Rick Grimes. He saw the arrow going through him over and over again, he heard him cursing, saw him spinning on his heel and aiming a gun. He saw the raw anger on his face dissipate as his expression fell soft at the sight of Levi, and he could feel how his stomach heaved as he toppled into his own vomit. Then he was seeing that arrow again, and then the repeating vision changed as another arrow came through his chest, and one through his neck, and more through his stomach, arrow after arrow flying into his back and protruding from his front. Arrows going into his legs, into his arms, and then an arrow sliding through the back of his head and out his  mouth, and two more arrows jutting from his eye sockets and impaling his eyes on the arrowheads. There was blood spurting from the gashes in his body, oozing around arrows and spilling onto the ground, mixing with Levi’s vomit. His body was ripping into pieces, his entrails poured from the gaping holes in his abdomen, there was blood gushing from his eye sockets and flowing from his mouth like water in a creek, and red trickled from his nostrils and his ears. The arrows were tearing his body apart and it fell into a shredded mess, Levi looked from the mutilated corpse to see his sister, with fire burning from her eyes and her mouth, burning through her veins, charring her skin black, chunks of her burnt body falling away from her as she walked to him. As she stood in the remains that looked like shredded red paper, Levi reached for a tub of water and he flung it at his sister, and the fire went out and she melted into a puddle of mud in front of him. He desperately grabbed at the mud, crying, begging for his sister back, and riding from the mud there was a shadow, and the shadow turned and walked away from him, slowly gaining color as he walked, with a vest that had angel wings, long greasy hair, and a crossbow. He rose to his feet, but he slipped in his vomit, and then he couldn’t stand up, so he watched the figure turn to look at him, and he recognized the man to be his father. A strong wind blew from the woods and the man crumbled like a dry dead leaf, and he was carried away with the wind, over the cottage, over the treetops, Northward. 


	5. Habit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lois wakes up early and searches around the cabin. She discovers something in the extra room that is life-changing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters.  
> Okay guys, I know it's been a very long time since I updated. I planned on chapter five being a Rick and Daryl chapter but I had some extreme writer's block on that and I just gave up. I came back to the story recently, and decided to try and write another chapter focusing on Lois. This chapter, just like the others, is not beta'd. I know it's an extremely short chapter, but it's better than nothing. Hope y'all enjoy.

That morning, Lois woke up at the crack of dawn. As she sat up in bed, she felt the sting in her side and remembered the events of the night before. Wincing, she pushed herself from the bed and crossed the hall to check on Levi. He was tossing and turning beneath the sheets, but she paid it no mind because she knew he’d always been a restless sleeper. There was no reason to wake him up. 

She shuffled into the kitchen, stifling a yawn against the back of her hand. The wood floor was cold against her bare feet, and she realized that it’d been the first night she had slept without her shoes on in months. A thought crossed her mind that maybe she shouldn’t get so comfortable. She really should keep sleeping with her shoes on. They never knew when they’d have to get up and run. Lois reached into her back pocket and pulled out her knife. She grabbed a can of beans and quickly popped the can open using her blade. She could’ve used the can opener that was lying on the counter, but it’d become a habit for her to use a knife.  She almost reached into the can to grab a handful of beans, because that’s what she was used to, but as her eyes trailed around the kitchen, she realized that she could use a spoon this time. There were utensils. She could eat like a  _ person.  _

Lois sat the open can down on the table and pulled one of the many drawers along the counter open, humming in content at the sight of spoons, knives, and forks, placed neatly in their own spaces of an organizer. She grabbed a spoon and sat in one of the creaky wooden chairs at the table. She shoveled spoonfuls of the room-temperature beans into her mouth, relishing the taste of real food. Before the cabin, she had found herself eating worms for breakfast on some mornings. 

After eating half of the contents of the can, she slumped in her chair, feeling truly relaxed, and full, for the first time in a long time. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, then rubbed her hand against her jeans and stood up. She grabbed a clean spoon and the can, then padded down the hallway back to Levi’s room. He was still sleeping, still rolling around, so she sat the can of beans down on the side table, silently, leaving the spoon in the can. 

Lois felt compelled to search the extra room that Levi had found the fishing line in the night before. She entered the room with caution, even though she knew it was clear. The first thing she wanted to search was not the numerous boxes or the closet, but for some reason, she felt as though she should look under the bed. Holding her knife steady in her hand, she dropped to her knees by the bed and bent forward. Using her free hand, she lifted the bed skirt up and held her breath, anticipating something to jump out at her, waiting for an attempt on her life, but nothing happened. She tucked the edge of the cloth under the mattress so it would be held in place and squinted her eyes to get a better look under the bed, but it was too dark. She looked around the room and her gaze landed on a flashlight, so she stretched her arm to grab it and flipped the switch. To her amazement, the light actually flickered on, and she glared under the bed again. She could see the dust floating in the beam of light, some notebooks, and pencils under the bed, legos, old toy cars. She was getting ready to turn the light off when something caught her eye. The planks of wood that were just slightly higher than the rest of the floor, the metal hinges, the rusted handle jutting up from the floor. A secret passage. She thought to herself that maybe there were supplies in the basement. It couldn’t take long to check, so she decided she would go at it alone. 

First, she needed to put on shoes, so she headed back to her room, glancing into Levi’s room as she passed by. He was still sleeping. She pulled her socks and boots on, quickly lacing her boots and triple-knotting them. Habit. 

Entering the extra room again, she tied the loop on the end of the flashlight to her belt and started to move the bed. It made an awful, nails on chalkboard sound for the first few inches. It gave her goosebumps, made the hair on her arms stand on end. She felt the muscles in her back and arms strain as she pulled back. With enough space between the bed and the wall, she moved to the other side of the bed and braced her feet against the wall, and her back and arms against the bed. Her knees were bent, and to push the bed back, she slowly straightened her legs. Finally, she could see the handle to the secret door, and she knew it wouldn’t take much more effort to move the bed those final inches. She turned around, still bracing her feet against the wall, but this time facing the bed, and shoved with all of her force. It creaked loudly against the floor as it was budged out of the way. Rolling her shoulders in an attempt to relax her muscles, she prepped herself to open the door. She sat on her haunches by the handle and popped her knuckles. She gripped the handle with both hands and took a deep breath, then jerked her arms up in a quick motion. The door flung open and dust flew into the air. 

Lois grabbed the flashlight and yanked it free from her belt, she flicked the switch to turn it on and it flickered to life again. The beam of light didn’t reach all the way to the floor of the basement, but it did succeed in revealing a wooden ladder. Gathering her courage, Lois sat down with her legs dangling into the narrow abyss. She held the flashlight in her mouth as she kicked one foot to the ladder, and grabbed the top peg with her hands, then swung her other foot forward, and she was already quickly making her descent into the unknown. She stopped, at what she hoped was halfway down, and wondered to herself just how deep it could be. Wasn’t it just a basement? 

Turning her head, she aimed the beam of the flashlight down, and if she squinted her eyes, she swore she could finally see the ground. Feeling somewhat more motivated at the promise of being able to stand without gripping a rickety ladder for her dear life, she propelled herself downward a little faster. 

When her foot hit the ground, she couldn’t have been more relieved. She hopped down from the ladder and spun on her heel to see just what she had made the trip to see. A long, dark tunnel. Although she was disheartened by the fact that it wasn’t a basement full of supplies, she pushed forward in her journey. 

The tunnel seemed never ending, and for a moment, she thought she should pinch herself so she could wake up. When she thought she could hear water rushing above her, she stopped, and she held her breath. She was under the creek. This tunnel went under the creek. The sound of the water rushing over the ground above reverberated against the metal walls. She made a note in the back of her mind, that maybe some day she could figure out a way to channel some of that water into a pipe and rig some sort of shower system. She resumed walking. 

Soon, the narrow, metal tunnel widened, and a familiar hissing, moaning sound, sent all of her senses into overdrive. She looked around herself frantically as she continued forwards, and the smell of death wafting through the tunnel grew stronger. Finally, as she turned a corner, she saw it. It hadn’t been dead as long as some others. It certainly wasn’t a fresh one, but it wasn’t old either. It’d been dead for at least a couple of weeks. It was male, without a shirt, the skin near its collarbone looked as though it’d been deliberately cut open and pulled back. Even the rotting muscle and tissue had been cut through, and Lois wondered if it’d been a suicide. 

He stumbled towards her, arms outstretched, mouth agape, and she took a few steps back, not from fear, but simply because she felt a need to study him just a little longer. Her back hit the wall, and she held her knife out in front of her as he walked closer. She could see his fingers were covered in old, dried blood. She could see the slash in his chest again, how the muscle and tissue had been pushed back. Some of his dark hair was falling out. 

When he got a little too close for comfort, bloody fingers reaching for her mindlessly, she maneuvered her knife into his temple with one quick jab. He fell limp, and as she slid the knife out of his skull, he collapsed. She kneeled on the ground beside him, shining her flashlight over him as she searched his pockets for anything useful. She’d have to find a way to get his body out of the tunnel on her way back out. She crossed his arms over his chest and noticed that there was tissue and blood under his fingernails, and her eyes were drawn to the wound below his right collarbone again. She shook her head, closing her eyes in some sort of condolence to the man as she rose back to her feet. Giving him one last look over, she turned to look down the tunnel again. Surely it couldn’t be much longer. 

After about a minute, she was proven right. The tunnel opened into a large, metal room. Lois spotted a lantern in the beam of her flashlight and scrambled towards it to light it. With the lantern lit, it was somewhat easier to take in her surroundings, and what she saw made her want to sing. She felt, at any moment, she may spontaneously break into  _ song.  _ First aid kits. Clothes. Weapons. Food. Jugs upon jugs of water. The place was a bunker. The place was built precisely for the end of the world. 

As she searched the room with a joyous smile on her face, she noticed a knife lying on the floor. Beside it was a bullet, covered in dry blood just as the blade of the knife was. Not far from the knife and the bullet was a notebook, with a pencil placed on the cover. Her smile fell as she reached for the notebook. She placed the pencil on her ear and blew the dust from the cover of the notebook. She read the words on the cover: 

 

**The Irony In Our Extinction**

**A True Story**

**By: Harley Ohlman**

 

She flipped through the pages, noting how the story ended not even half way through, then she flipped back to the first page and read it into the empty room, aloud. 

“God thinks he’s a comedian. He also thinks he’s an author and a hell of an author at that, and I’ll give credit where it’s due; he certainly is a fantastic writer, and that’s coming from someone who once aspired to become a published author. No one expected this killer plot twist. I mean killer in every aspect of the word, too. A plot twist in which we humans, we apex predators, fall victim to our own predation. How funny, that I should never reach my hopes and dreams of writing horror stories for young adults. How ironic, that whilst I used to write gore and horror, now I live it. My name is Harley Ohlman. I once hoped to become an author. Now I only hope to survive the end of days.” 

There were drops of blood smudged across the bottom of the page. “Today I killed a dead man. This is his blood, blood that was already cold, even as he tried to kill me. He tried to make my flesh his meal. After I put him down, I laughed. Isn’t that psychotic? I found myself smiling at this dead guy because this crazy memory of reading the Bible crossed my mind. I knelt by his body and I said, “I am not the bread. Do not eat from me.”

Lois snapped the book shut and held it close to her chest, she swore she would read the whole damn thing. She would learn about the life of the dead man she killed. She looked around the room, smiling to herself fondly, then blew out the lantern and began her journey through the tunnel again. She needed to go back to Levi. 


End file.
